


A Very Good Thing

by Sue Corkill (mscorkill)



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-16
Updated: 2012-05-16
Packaged: 2017-11-05 11:47:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/406046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mscorkill/pseuds/Sue%20Corkill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam finally receives some comfort after her tumble through the Stargate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Very Good Thing

**Author's Note:**

> Well, something had to be written to get Sam the comfort she needed. Enjoy!
> 
> Originally posted January 2004.

A VERY GOOD THING

Sam was confused, tired and she hurt. She sat on the edge of the gurney, trying to contain her impatience as she waited for the nurse to return with her sling and prescription. Because all she really wanted to do right now was to get home and lick her wounds in peace—and private. Well, not that she really had anything to worry about on that count. There had been a noticeable lack of concern on her teammates part regarding her well being. The Colonel's casual "Carter, you all right?" when she so obviously wasn't still rankled, totally destroying the meager words of praise he'd uttered just as casually. The nurse finally returned with the sling and Sam let her fuss and worry until she was satisfied. Standing, Sam had to reluctantly acknowledge that her arm did feel better. And then Janet returned.

"I really wish you'd take something for the pain now."

Sam sighed, not wanting to have the same argument again. "If I take something for pain now, you won't let me leave."

"No, I just won't let you drive."

Sam rolled her eyes. "Same thing, since it seems like no one's lining up to drive me home."

Janet's hand rested gently on her injured arm. "I know this has been rough on you, what with the Ambassador and all. I get off duty in three hours. If you'd wait till then...."

Taking a deep breath, Sam desperately tried to quell the tears she could feel starting with Janet's comment. "I appreciate that, Janet. I really do." She took another deep breath, fighting for control. "I just really want to go home."

Sam held herself still for Janet's scrutiny, relieved when her friend nodded—albeit reluctantly. "Let me at least get an airman to drive you home."

Sam nodded. She'd agree to most anything if it meant that she could leave. Besides, she could dismiss the airman and make her own way home once she was free of the infirmary. 

Which is exactly what she did, when she was on the surface thirty minutes later. Christensen didn't look too thrilled that she'd dismissed him, but there wasn't much he could do except salute and walk away. Sam waited until he disappeared back through the last checkpoint before heading to the parking lot. Finally-- 

"Hey, Carter! Wait up!"

She stopped, her outstretched hand poised on her car door. She so did not need this right now—or him. "Sir," she muttered, trying to keep the annoyance out of her voice. 

"What's up?" He frowned and she found herself backing up a space. "I thought Fraiser got someone to drive you home?"

"Ah...she did, but I decided I didn't need any help."

"I see." He gestured towards her injured arm. "Going to drive with an injured wing?"

She gritted her teeth, determined to not lose her temper with him. But she couldn't help her next muttered words. "It's kind of late to be worried now..."

"I didn't hear you, Major."

He damn well had heard her, but she forced herself to repeat it, louder this time. "It's kind of late to be worried now...sir," she added ungraciously.

His eyes narrowed and she belatedly realized she'd pushed him too far. "Hand over the keys, Major." She didn't respond immediately and his voice was whip-like when he added, "Do I have to make that an order?"

Not trusting herself to answer him, she handed him the keys. He thrust them in his pocket. "We'll take my truck." He didn't even wait to see if she'd obey him, just started walking away from her car. She so wanted to ignore him, to walk away and leave him standing alone by his truck...but that would mean returning to the SGC and she wasn't about to do that. Ignoring the dull ache in her heart that was beginning to rival the ache in her shoulder, she followed after him.

He opened the door for her and then she didn't know whether to be mad or relieved that he didn't wait to help her in. She'd scrambled into the big truck as best she could and then struggled with the seat belt. He didn't say anything or do anything, just started the engine and growled, "Are you ready yet?"

"Yes," she snapped, tugging on the seat belt strap, trying to ease some of the pressure on her shoulder. He grunted and put the truck into gear, speeding out of the parking lot and away from the mountain. 

Sam kept her gaze firmly fixed out the window, the scenery whizzing by nothing like the gentle pastoral setting of the Volien world. She placed a hand on the window, the Volien world, the Aschen, the Ambassador.... She sighed, she didn't dare think of him as anything but 'the Ambassador'. To think of him as Joe, as someone she might have liked to get to know better, hurt too much. Just like thinking about the man sitting beside her hurt too much. Part of her confusion stemmed from his behavior, anyway. Ambassador Faxon had been interested in her and he had been oblivious. Just like he was oblivious about anything to do with her. She sighed again and shifted restlessly, beginning to wish she had gone back to the SGC and endured Janet's wrath. Anything seemed better than the grim silence surrounding her right now. 

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

Her head jerked around at the sound of his harsh voice. His eyes were fastened on the road, his face stern in profile and his eyes hidden by his damn sunglasses. His whole attitude was beginning to wear thin. "What's wrong with me?"

"Oh, you can cut the act, Carter. Your boyfriend is as good as dead."

"My boyfriend?" she sputtered, annoyance giving way to true anger. How dare he!

"Yeah, Carter. It's been a real pain watching you moon around Mister Ambassador for the past week. Making googly eyes at him, being oh so happy to go out to dinner with him the next time he's in town."

She was too mad to even speak, she just stared at him, gasping for words.

"I would have thought you'd have learned your lesson by now. I mean, what with the numerous failures with all your 'aliens'." 

His sneer when he said aliens broke her out of her out of her speechlessness. "My aliens? Goo-goo eyes at Ambassador Faxon? Just where the hell do you get off making comments like that?"

The truck suddenly jerked to a halt, snapping her against the seat belt and sending fresh waves of pain through her shoulder. Stifling a moan, she looked out the window, surprised and grateful to see that they were at her house. Fumbling for the seatbelt, she decided she didn't really care what else he might have to say on the subject—which appeared to be slurs against her rather abysmal love life. And she didn't need him to point out the fact that every man who had shown any interest in her of late was gone...dead...vanished...whatever. She almost sobbed at that thought, 'whatever' certainly applied to the man sitting next to her. 

"Running away, Carter?"

Her hand froze on the door handle, a smart retort dying on her lips. Was she running away? Hadn't she been running ever since that lovely debacle that had been the Earth/Tok'ra treaty signing? Was he actually, in a very twisted way, giving her an opening? Her shoulder hurt and she was mad as hell at him...but she wasn't going to let him go this time.

"No, dammit. I'm through running."

He looked at her then and she desperately wished she could see his eyes. But all she could see was the slight smile that twitched around his lips before he looked straight ahead again and started the ignition. For some inexplicable reason that half smile comforted her and she hurriedly refastened her seatbelt; his faintly murmured "Good" almost lost in the roar of the engine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

God, but he was one fucked up bastard. He hadn't meant to pick a fight with her, he hadn't meant to do anything...until he had seen her in the parking lot. The air of defeat surrounding her had been palpable. He'd just wanted to make sure she was okay, maybe make her feel better, get her to smile. He should have known better. The debriefing had been hell, the red phone practically ringing off the hook and Hammond looked more and more haggard every time he returned from answering it. The potential fallout from the Ambassador's disappearance and the failure of the proposed treaty was going to be nuclear. And he thought he could cheer her up!

Of course, he had failed rather spectacularly in the whole concerned commander category. What the hell was he supposed to do with Kinsey glaring at them and breathing fire? Pull her into his arms like he'd wanted? Like every nerve in his body had screamed for him to do? Like he always wanted to do whenever she was hurt, or happy, or just plain breathing? But he couldn't do that, so he'd done the only thing he could, he'd asked. Like that was going to make her feel any better. And then when he'd gone to find her, she was gone. Or trying to be gone. 

He'd tried to be friendly, concerned, all those things a good CO was when one of his people got injured. But then she'd made it obvious that she was going to not only disobey Fraiser's orders but that she also didn't want to have anything to do with him and he'd lost it. Forget the concern and caring, he would be damned if he'd let her try and drive home and brush him off at the same time. But it had been a low blow to throw the Ambassador in her face, he usually wasn't one to kick a person when they were down and he was ashamed of himself now. She had every right to go out with whomever she wanted, even if the thought of her with another man twisted his guts into so many knots that he'd prefer a bullet to the brain than to endure the agony of imagining her kissing someone else...and more. 

Besides being one fucked up bastard, he was also one selfish one. Her aliens hadn't concerned him too much, they were aliens after all. But her last conquest hadn't been an alien, it had been someone with whom she could have actually had a relationship. And someone who was a hell of a lot more appropriate for her than he would ever be. It had scared him more than he wanted to admit and he honestly didn't know what he would have done if she'd actually gone out with the man.... The Ambassador's sacrifice had been Jack O'Neill's gain. Jack had to admit he hadn't been all that impressed with Ambassador Faxon, hell, he wasn't usually impressed with diplomats at all. But Faxon had done the right thing when it mattered and Jack owed the man for that—and for Sam's life.

Jack pulled into his driveway, glad he had managed to make it home on autopilot, given his distracted thoughts. He only wished he could put his next actions on automatic because he didn't have a clue as to what to do next. Sam's soft moan of pain had him looking at her sharply as he turned off the ignition. She was even paler and the set of her mouth told him she was in more pain than she'd ever admit. And he suddenly knew what to do. This time he beat her to opening the truck door and the shyly grateful smile she gave him as he helped her out warmed his heart. Jack ushered her into his house and she gravitated to the sofa, sinking down onto the cushions with another soft moan.

"Did Fraiser give you any pain pills?"

Her eyes flew open and she frowned. "My prescription," she mumbled, grabbing for her purse. Jack gently took the crumpled paper she found out of her hand, reading what Fraiser had ordered.

"No problem," he smiled down at her. "Got some of that stuff here." Jack hurried to his medicine cabinet, thankful that Fraiser was predictable in her prescribing habits. He returned to the living room and gave Sam two of the painkillers with a glass of water. Pain and the fatigue he could see in her face made her compliant and she didn't protest when he urged her to lie down. 

She lay back on the sofa, her blue eyes vulnerable and questioning. "Sir?"

"Just rest, Sam." He covered her with an afghan he kept on the sofa, tucking it in around her shoulders, ever careful of her injury. He paused for a moment and slowly caressed her cheek. "We can talk later." She nodded and closed her eyes, settling back into the pillows. Jack watched her for a long time, satisfied that she had let herself relax and would sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam woke up, the dull ache in her shoulder not as bad as the insistent pressure of her bladder. Groaning, she opened her eyes and looked around, momentarily confused until she remembered where she was. Why couldn't she be at home? Sitting slowly and then standing awkwardly, she trudged down the short hallway that she thought led to a bathroom. And then he was there, guiding her into the guest bathroom. He flipped on the light and his smile was tenderly amused.

"Need some help?" She glared at him and his smile widened. "I'll be right outside the door if you need anything." She nodded and was glad that he finally left her. It was awkward and frustrating, but she finally managed to accomplish her task. Washing her hand, she looked in the mirror. She looked a mess. Smoothing down her hair from where it stuck out after lying down helped a little. But there wasn't much she could do about her pallor or the dark circles under her eyes. Carefully rotating her injured shoulder, she was pleased that it didn't feel too bad. A quick look at her watch told her she'd been asleep only about an hour. 

"Sam?" The door opened a crack. "Are you okay?"

She didn't know if she was okay or not, but she couldn't hide out in his bathroom. Especially since she had decided to come with him. Pulling the door open the rest of the way, she smiled. "I'm okay, just a little slower than usual." He nodded in obvious understanding and she smiled again, sidling past him down the hallway.

He followed her into the living room. "I've got some soup if you're hungry?"

Sitting back down on the sofa, she tucked her legs up under the afghan and considered his offer. She wasn't really hungry, the butterflies in her stomach had taken care of any hunger pangs she might have had. And she knew the only cure for the butterflies was to confront them. 

"I'm still mad at you." 

He didn't look surprised, just nodded in agreement. "I know."

"You have no right to question what I do or who I see in my personal life."

"I know. But that doesn't mean I have to like it."

"It doesn't matter whether you like it or not, that's the way it is."

"I was out of line, I know that. I apologize. I may not have liked the Ambassador, but he did the right thing."

"He did." Much to her dismay, her voice quivered. "He sacrificed his chance of escape so that I could warn Earth. I don't even know what happened to him...."

He sat down next to her then, engulfing her left hand in his two large hands. "We tried dialing P3A-194, couldn't get a lock. Either the Aschen did something to neutralize the Volien gate or they actually dialed the black hole planet."

She nodded, fighting back tears. "He was a good man."

The grip he had on her hand tightened until it was almost painful and then he abruptly released it and stood. "Yeah," he muttered, walking over to stand in front of the fireplace. "It's too bad he didn't make it back."

And then because he needed to know she added, "I would have gone out to dinner with him."

"You can go out to dinner with whoever you want." 

"But that's all I would have done."

Whatever fragile truce they had created was starting to fade, she could literally see the walls going up around him. Getting back to her feet, she walked over to where he stood with his back to her and pressed herself up against his back, wrapping her good arm around him. "We almost had it, didn't we?" she whispered.

His back moved against her, the muscles rippling, as he took a deep breath. "Yeah, we did. But it was too good to be true."

"We still have each other."

"No we don't, not really."

"We can."

"No--" 

"Yes." She was still losing him. And when he turned, she tried to keep her arm around him, but he was too strong. He gripped her elbows, being careful she noted, of her injured arm, and held her at arms length.

"Sam—"

"No, listen to me." She was starting to feel more desperate than angry. "I'm tired of pretending I’m happy. I'm tired of knowing that every man I even think about going out with isn't the man I want to go out with...to be with. There's only one man I want to be with—you." His eyes were still remote and her desperation became more urgent. "If you can honestly tell me you don't feel the same way, then I'll leave and I won't ever bring it up again."

He took a shuddering breath and the look of anguish that crossed his face nearly broke her heart. "Jack," she murmured quickly, "it's all right. I'll leave and everything can go back to the way it was."

"No," he croaked, hauling her into his arms. She winced when he held her a little too tightly, but didn't say anything, merely wrapped her good arm around him and held fast. His voice was low and rough in her ear when he finally spoke. "Don't leave." 

She closed her eyes on a wave of pure relief because she really wasn't sure she could have left. The only place she wanted to be was in his arms. "I won't," she whispered.

His arms loosened and she found herself looking into deep brown eyes that were filled with wonder. "Good," he murmured, caressing her cheek, tender fingers trailing lightly across her lips.

She smiled against his fingers. It wasn't a confession of undying love or any kind of love at all, actually, but it was pure Jack O'Neill and because of that, it was enough. She leaned closer, his caressing fingers sliding down her neck until his hand rested warmly at her throat. Sam brushed her lips against his in a tentative caress. When he didn't return it, she felt some of her anxiety resurface and she shifted restlessly in his loose embrace. "Jack?"

He sighed and she saw regret flash through his eyes and braced herself for whatever he said next. "While there's nothing I'd like better than to kiss you, Sam." He smiled ruefully at her and she once more started to relax. "I don't think I'll be able to stop with a few kisses." She nodded, so far not seeing the problem, as she doubted she'd be satisfied with only a few kisses. "And...you're injured."

Ah, she finally understood his reticence. And it was so sweet, though she'd never tell him that, at least not right now. She considered his concern seriously. She actually wasn't feeling too bad, probably because the pain pills he'd given her were working. And while she didn't think she was up to anything incredibly strenuous or too acrobatic, she didn't think she would break if they made love. Aware that he was watching her closely, she carefully rotated both her shoulders. There was a little twinge from the right, but nothing bad enough to persuade her that making love with Jack would aggravate it. Besides, the ache she could feel starting low in her belly was rapidly replacing any aches she had left over from her fall through the gate.

"I do hurt Jack." The disappointment that shown in his eyes was gratifying, but she hurried on. "But it's here." She took his right hand with her good one and placed it over her heart. "Only you can heal me."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jack wanted her more than any thing in this—or any other world, but he would have waited, if that was what she wanted. But when he felt the steady beat of her heart and the soft swell of her breast beneath his hand, he was lost. He wasn't a romantic or fanciful man, but he knew she was sincere, because Sam Carter wasn't someone who made idle comments. Or even comments she didn't mean. So he believed her and he wanted to believe that he could heal her. Because he had no doubt that being with her would begin to heal him as well. "We'll go slow and easy," he murmured. 

She released his hand, her lips curving into a gentle smile. "Sounds good to me." 

He grinned back, desire mixing with the relief washing through him. He might be one fucked up bastard, but he was also a damn lucky one. Leaving his hand over her heart, he slid his left arm around her and carefully pulled her close. She sighed and nestled against him, at least as much as she could he figured, given the fact her arm was in a sling. Nuzzling her ear, Jack murmured, "So...do you have to wear this sling all the time?"

Her laugh was low and slightly wicked, the vibrations racing through him. She pulled back a little and smiled at him, the hand that had been resting on his shoulder somehow finding its way to his nape. Her fingers danced lightly against his skin, her nails scratched casually through his hair and he felt the sweet rush of desire all the way to his groin. "Well, Janet did say I could take it off when I was in bed."

"Then bed it is," he growled. She chuckled and then gave a startled cry when he swung her up in his arms, cradling her cautiously against his chest. He held her with her injured arm against his chest and she tucked her head against his neck, her good arm draped over his shoulder. "Okay?" he asked, concern tingeing his voice.

She nuzzled his neck and he felt her lips and then her tongue hot against his flesh when she kissed him and murmured, "Mmmhmm...comfy."

"Good," he managed to not quite moan. Jack turned his thoughts to concentrating on safely navigating the hallway to his bedroom, trying to ignore the continued rush of blood to his rapidly growing erection. He figured he was going to have to do lots of concentrating once he had Sam in his bed. Like concentrating on her beauty, the feel of her soft skin under his fingers, on bringing her pleasure and not hurting her anymore. 

Shouldering through his bedroom door, he gently placed her on the bed and then turned on the bedside lamp, the early evening gloom fading under the mellow light. She smiled up at him and then moving awkwardly, tried to sit up. He quickly helped her and then sat down on the edge of the bed, facing her. "You're sure about this?" he asked again, even though he was already carefully easing her arm out of the sling. 

He pulled the sling over her head and watched while she rotated her shoulder. He saw the slight flinch but then she smiled and though he could tell it took her some effort, she touched his hand with her right one. "I've never been more sure about anything." 

Turning his hand so that he could clasp hers, he leaned closer. He was dimly aware of her lashes fluttering as her eyes closed and then his lips were on hers. His name was a soft sigh against his lips and he couldn't resist the temptation of her open mouth, deepening the kiss. He'd kissed her before, but it had never been like this. When both of them were willing participants, with no barriers between them. Well, at least not any insurmountable barriers. But then he realized he really was thinking too much, whatever decisions they had to make could wait until later. Much later, he decided as he lazily stroked her tongue, enticing her to return the playful caresses. Which she did, her tongue tangling nicely with his while they leisurely kissed. 

Jack was breathing heavily when he finally pulled his lips from hers. Resting his forehead against hers he whispered, "Sweet."

She chuckled, the sound low and seductive. "I was going to say the same thing," she murmured, the fingers of one slim hand stroking along his nape. 

He grinned and started pressing open-mouthed kisses along her jaw until he reached her ear. She shivered nicely when he traced the delicate shell with his tongue. "Sweet?" he teased, swirling his tongue in her ear. "Is that all my kisses are? Sweet?" 

Sam moaned and his grin widened. "Delicious...fantastic...wonderful." Her voice was a husky whisper, sending corresponding shivers up and down his spine.

"I like that," he replied, his hands running lightly down her back before finding their way under her clothing. Her skin was warm and soft and oh so touchable, he decided hazily, trailing his fingers in tantalizing caresses up and down her spine. She leaned closer to him, until her breasts were pressed against his chest and her good arm wrapped around him.   
Continuing his exploration, he chuckled when his hand encountered her bra.

"What?" she asked, her voice husky.

Gently snapping the elastic he said, "Good thing I'm here. How'd you plan on getting out of this thing?"

She laughed, the sound just the slightest bit strained. "Hadn't thought about it." Pulling out of his embrace she gave him a coy look. "So, you gonna' help me?"

"Yes, ma'am." He grinned and started undressing her. Removing her shirt wasn't a problem, it had buttons and he merely eased it off her injured arm. The T-shirt she had on underneath was a bit more of a challenge, but one which he easily met, working her good arm out first and then pulling it over her head and finally off her injured arm. She sat before him then, in her plain white bra, but that enticing sight wasn't what captured his attention. 

"Sam..." he murmured, shocked by what he saw. Reaching out, he gently traced the outline of the massive bruise on her shoulder. "That must've hurt." It was an understatement. He knew she'd hit the ramp hard and seeing the bruise he was amazed she hadn't dislocated her shoulder or been hurt any worse. 

"All in the line of duty." He heard her voice catch and looked quickly at her face. She shrugged and wouldn't meet his eyes. "Sorry...I just remembered."

"It's okay," Jack said, knowing she was thinking about the Ambassador. Tipping her chin up with a gentle hand, he searched her eyes, getting lost in their blue depths. "You wouldn't be you if you didn't care." He frowned, that hadn't come out quite like he wanted, but it seemed to be enough, as the shadows faded and the sparkled returned.

"Thanks," she murmured, turning her face into his palm when he caressed her cheek. And then she smiled at him and asked, "Now, where were we?"

Her smile went straight to his cock. He wasn't sure how he was going to hang onto his self-control if a mere smile from her brought him to full attention. Taking a deep breath he reminded himself that she was injured, they had all night and before the night was over he'd be exactly where he wanted—buried deep inside her body. Reaching carefully around her, he released the fastening of her bra. 

Sitting back, he took his time in removing it, slowly tugging the straps down. She smiled shyly and helped him, holding the bra in place with alternating hands while he pulled the straps off. Finally, the only thing holding her bra in place was her hand and he watched in almost breathless anticipation when she slowly took her hand away, letting the garment fall to her lap. She was beautiful, even with the bruises marring her pale skin. He could tell she was tense...waiting. It had been awhile since his 'first' time with any woman, especially one as important to him as Sam, but he still recognized her insecurity.

Reaching out, he delicately ran his fingers down the sleek line of her throat, delighting in the tiny shiver that ran through her at his touch. Trailing his fingers along her collarbone, he traced random designs that brought him closer and closer to the soft swell of her breasts. "So beautiful," he murmured, looking directly into her brilliant blue eyes and letting his hand drift lower. He brought his other hand to her breasts then, fondling the soft mounds, rubbing his thumbs over the rosy nipples. She gasped softly; her lashes fluttering shut as she leaned closer to him, her good hand coming to rest on his thigh, her fingers gently kneading.

He continued the arousing caresses and she sagged further against him, her head resting on his shoulder. It became more difficult to touch her the way he wanted, the way his body and mind demanded. A whimper of protest escaped when he removed his hands from her breasts, but when he placed them in her shoulders and gently urged her to lie down, her eyes flashed with understanding. He waited patiently as Sam lay back, trusting her to find the most comfortable position for her injured shoulder. 

Once she seemed comfortable, he didn't waste any time undressing her, his hands still gentle even in the face of his mounting eagerness. The smooth skin of her belly was so warm against his fingers as he slid them under the fabric, tugging at the button and zip. The sound of the zipper coming undone seemed almost unnaturally loud in the quiet room, the denim felt unusually rough against his hands, especially in contrast to her smooth skin. Jack tugged her jeans and panties down her hips and then stood. She'd lost her shoes sometime after they'd come to the bedroom and he pulled her socks off, then finished with her jeans, easing each leg out. He gazed down at her then with hooded eyes. This had been something he'd wanted for so long, had fantasized seeing her just like this—on his bed—waiting for him, that it almost seemed like an illusion. That she would vanish before his very eyes.

She didn't vanish though, and his mouth went dry as he continued to gaze at her, entranced by the secrets now open to him. From the delicate arches of her feet, up her trim ankles, to her femininely muscled calves and finally her firm, smooth thighs. Of course, he was only speculating and then he decided to find out for himself. Reaching out, he ran his callused palm along the outside of one thigh. She moaned softly, her muscles shivering beneath his hand. He stopped when he reached her hipbone and she shifted restlessly, moving her legs farther apart and pressing harder against his hand. 

"Jack." Her voice was low and husky and everything male in him recognized the desire and urgency in that one word—calling to him and him alone.

"I'm here, Sam." He straightened up, reluctantly removing his hand from her hip and ignoring her small whimper of protest. Not wanting to prolong the loss of contact any longer than possible, he pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor. Bending, he quickly removed his boots and socks and then unfastened his khakis. Sam whimpered again and he looked at her, concerned that something was wrong, only to find her watching him from beneath hooded eyes, a look of fierce approval on her face. His answering smile was savage and he let his trousers drop, pulling his boxers off at the same time. Eagerly kicking out of the garments, Jack dropped down to his knees on the bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam felt her whole body quiver in anticipation when Jack covered her with his hard body. She ignored the minor ache in her injured shoulder and instead concentrated on the exquisite feel of Jack's warm body against her. She moaned softly, spreading her legs to let him nestle between her thighs, the slightly rough texture of his hair-roughened thighs against her much softer, inner thighs sending shivers of pleasure through her. His chest pressed nicely against her breasts and she cried out softly when he shifted, lowering his head and drawing an already tight nipple into his mouth. 

"Jack," she moaned, clutching at his head, encouraging him as he sucked and nipped lightly, the contrasting textures of his tongue and teeth on her nipple sending ripples of pleasure through her entire body. He transferred his mouth to her other breast, treating that nipple to the same pleasures and Sam moaned softly, her hips moving helplessly against him as he suckled at her breast. 

Oh god, she couldn't get close enough to him, the ache low in her belly growing with each passing minute. Unable to control her response, she ran her hands down his strong back and clutched his firm ass, arching her back in an effort to rub her soft folds against his rigid length. Which worked, when Jack groaned raggedly against her breast, his entire body shuddering and his hips jerking convulsively against her. Unfortunately, the pain that shot through her shoulder left her gasping, her arms falling to her side.

"Sam, baby, I'm sorry," Jack groaned, raising up on his elbows, his eyes dark with worry. "I don't want to hurt you."

The look in his eyes was her undoing, the pain already fading in light of the concern she saw in his eyes. The love and desire she felt for this man outweighed any discomfort she currently felt in her shoulder. "You won't hurt me," she reassured him. And to emphasis her point, she feathered her good hand down his side in a smooth caress, before she reached between their bodies and gently grasped his penis. 

He growled her name, his eyes flashing with renewed passion and she felt a surge of pure feminine power rush through her. His next action though, had her crying out in dismay when he abruptly pulled out of her arms, only to kneel between her spread thighs. When he slid his hands under her ass, her eyes gleamed in understanding and she let out a soft sigh, draping her thighs over his legs when he pulled her closer. This was much better, she decided, the pressure on her shoulder easing somewhat with the change in position. 

One firm hand helped keep her anchored in place and she waited in breathless anticipation when he trailed his right hand across her belly, his fingers just brushing at her soft curls. She whimpered, her pelvis arching automatically into his touch. Lightly circling his other wrist with her right hand, Sam slid her left hand past his and once more gently grasped his penis. A low groan rumbled up from his chest and he eased forward, both hands at her hips now. His penis was hard and hot against her, slipping almost effortlessly through her slick folds until she felt him just broach her tender opening.

She released her grip on his straining erection, her hand fastening around his other wrist. "Jack, please," she pleaded, hooking a leg around his waist, trying vainly to pull him closer.

He groaned and slid further into her, but it wasn't enough. Her hands tightened on his wrist and through the haze of passion that enveloped her she heard him ask, "Are you okay?"

"No," she moaned, opening eyes wild with long denied passion. "You're not inside me."

"God...Sam..." her lover groaned harshly. His hands tightened on her hips and she cried out faintly when he thrust deep, taking her completely. Panting softly, Sam forced herself to relax muscles unaccustomed to such activity, closing her eyes and concentrating instead on the incredible feeling of Jack inside her. Shifting slightly, she contracted her internal muscles experimentally, moaning quietly at the slivers of pleasure the motion produced. 

"Sam, baby..." Jack growled, his fingers digging into her hips. The tense urgency in his voice broke through the haze of pleasure surrounding her and she opened her eyes. Dark brown eyes filled with fierce desire and concern gazed down at her.

"Jack," she murmured, her lips curving in a sultry smile. Cautious of her shoulder, Sam used her hold on his wrists for added leverage and rocked her hips slowly against him, the subtle movement designed to inflame and entice. It was as if he'd been waiting for her assent, for a low growl rumbled up from deep in his chest and he started moving. Oh god, so-so slowly at first that she could actually feel the all the textures of his hard length as he leisurely pulled almost all the way out of her before just as leisurely returning, probing deep. 

His unhurried movements made it easy for her to move with him; the long, drawn out caresses inexorably building the fires of passion within her. "Jack," she pleaded, tugging on his wrists and trying to increase his pace, moving her pelvis more urgently against him. 

"Slow and easy, Sam," he rumbled, unwilling to be deterred it seemed, his smile tight as he continued his deliberate pace. She moaned softly and gave in, deciding to let him do the work—which given the way the heat and pressure was building inside her—was something at which he was evidently quite talented. 

Soon she was gasping with each inward thrust; the first sweet tremors of release building in her. Releasing his wrist, she awkwardly moved her left hand to where they were joined, intending to help him. A firm hand grabbed her wrist and Jack growled, "No, let me, baby."

He released her wrist and she let her arm drop back down to her side, moaning when his large fingers delved into her soft folds, searching for her clitoris. Oh god, just the feel of his fingers on her, combined with the extraordinary sensations of him inside her, was almost enough to push her into ecstasy. And when those clever fingers started massaging her tender bud, it wasn't long before all the feelings he skillfully wrought in her gathered and coalesced into one unending moment of rapture when her orgasm rushed through her. She was only dimly aware that Jack had stopped moving, holding himself deep within her while he continued to stroke her. Sam cried out, sobbing his name, her body shuddering uncontrollably while he prolonged her rapture, lost in the incredible wonder of desire finally released. 

Random tremors still rippled through her when Jack shifted, slipping his arms under her legs and leaning heavily into her. He started moving again, driving hard, each powerful thrust pressing her into the mattress. Sam encouraged him by moving with him as best she could, tightening her inner muscles around him in rhythmic caresses. His movements became more erratic, until with a hoarse cry he thrust deep; grinding his pelvis against her. Sam watched in wonder as his orgasm claimed him, his head thrown back, a look of intense satisfaction on his face. His hips jerked against hers for long minutes, the hot wash of his seed filling her, completing the circle.

When Jack finally lowered himself into her arms he turned them so that they lay on their sides, facing each other. Sam felt a renewed rush of love and tenderness for him, his obvious concern for her injury warming her already overflowing heart. Draping her injured arm across his waist, she hooked her upper leg around his, keeping them connected. 

"Okay?" he murmured, smoothing her damp her back from her forehead.

"Mmm...yes," she whispered. "Better than okay, actually," she added, smiling gently.

He looked contented and relaxed, but the fingers fidgeting with her hair told Sam there was still something on his mind. "What is it?" she asked.

Jack's hand paused and his eyes were serious when he spoke. "Are you sure this is what you want, Sam?"

His question surprised her and her mind raced back to their earlier conversation, when it suddenly dawned on her that out of everything she had told him, she hadn't told him the most important thing of all. "I love you. This is all I've ever wanted."

The wariness in his eyes faded and the hand still in her hair slid to her nape and he pulled her close, kissing her forehead. "Good," he murmured, his voice rough. "Then we both want the same thing."

Joy flooded her heart and she carefully moved her arm until she could caress his cheek. "Which is a very good thing."

THE END


End file.
